


Singing Hounds, Crying Foxes

by Totally_Not_An_Awkward_Okapi



Category: Metal Gear, Metal Gear Solid
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:00:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26169820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totally_Not_An_Awkward_Okapi/pseuds/Totally_Not_An_Awkward_Okapi
Summary: A little drabble about songs. Nothing much. I've listened to too much crane wives.
Kudos: 4





	Singing Hounds, Crying Foxes

Octopus prided himself on his ability to steal voices. Appearances were easier than most would think, but a voice was a feat. He liked to show off, singing through them like a catalogue in the same way he turned accents on words they sounded good with. In taste, he was the sort who would listen to just about anything.

Ocelot was much the same. Electronic, pop, even soundtracks. But there was, as always, a caveat. He disliked country. Despite everything his appearance would suggest, he simply couldn't enjoy it. It got on his nerves. And it got on his nerves that it got on his nerves.

Mantis claimed to hate alot of things, but there was always something hidden in those sweeping statements. In the case of music, it was more a gross simplification of his hatred of singing. To make this even more specific, Raven and Ocelot's singing could go to hell. But music was fine, usually. Music couldn't drown thoughts, a different sense. Having the words turn into soup with a beat was even less enjoyable. But when he could listen with the thoughts muffled or gone, or could live in Eli's mind, he enjoyed it. He liked the harsher sounds Eli liked from time and the atmospherics of Ocelot (despite his opinions of the man) for their guidance. But he held a special, unexpected, and close place for folk. For stories of flames. For that permeating sorrow.

Wolf preferred the sounds of the wild, her dogs. But she had nothing against music. But it was distracting, worse even than talking. It was an activity in itself to listen to it. But she did sing. It was rare she knew the words well enough to copy them, but she still didn't just hum the melody. It was somewhere between the two. Deep in her throat but without voice. To call it howl might sound silly and might get you beat, but it was not entirely inaccurate.

Raven liked his music loud and happy, or at least inspiring. The words didn't have to be happy, but the sound did. No point in dragging yourself down after all. A strong beat helped too, brought a focus that was so needed working your body like he did. Music with a strong enough pulse could give strength to even the dead after all. His singing was much the same, loud enough and strong enough to raise the dead.


End file.
